


The Ciabhán to her Clíodhna

by cydian_sonor, monkeysrool75



Series: DoroPetra Week 2020 [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Library, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:33:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23380252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cydian_sonor/pseuds/cydian_sonor, https://archiveofourown.org/users/monkeysrool75/pseuds/monkeysrool75
Summary: Doropetra week Day 1Retreat“I didn’t think this was even possible…”Librarian/Reader AU~Dorothea works her boring job in Garreg Mach University's library when an unfamiliar face gives her her most important task yet.
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Petra Macneary
Series: DoroPetra Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1654231
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28
Collections: Doropetra Week 2020





	The Ciabhán to her Clíodhna

**Author's Note:**

> We went out of our way to use all three prompts.  
> So we didn't finish all of doropetra week but we did get a few really solid stories, so we'll post what we have on the days.

Dorothea Arnault walked into the Garreg Mach University library, caramel macchiato in hand, and made her way back to the tiny room she worked in. She sat at her work bench, groaning as she looked at the pile of books staring back at her—pages and spines strewn about just waiting for her to put them back together. She hated gluing books back together, nor was she good at it, but working for the library paired with her singing performance scholarship made tuition manageable.  
  
Dorothea was Garreg Mach University’s one and only book doctor. When any of the old books in the library’s stacks began to show signs of wear and tear, it was up to her to make them like new again. The head librarian, Manuela, had told her there hadn’t been a book doctor at GMU in almost five years, and after all that time, Dorothea had inherited a mountain of time-worn books that needed her attention. The work was menial, tedious, and often a complete bore, but in the grand scheme of on-campus jobs, it was better than slinging slop in the cafeteria or picking up trash on campus. Manuela was as good of a boss as she could hope for, too—warm, friendly, and patient.  
  
The door to her workspace swung open gently, and Dorothea turned her head to see Manuela poking her head in, smiling.  
  
“Good morning, Thea,” she said warmly. “How’s our resident book doctor doing today?”  
  
Dorothea sighed. “Exhausted.” She reached for her coffee and took another swig, hoping the caffeine would get to work sooner rather than later.  
  
“Don’t feel like you need to work yourself too hard,” Manuela said. “I know you’ve got a lot to take care of. Besides, a good book doctor knows never to rush.”  
  
“Right, right,” Dorothea replied, gazing down at her tools. “I’ll... try not to overdo myself today.”  
  
“I’ll check in with you later,” Manuela said, closing the door behind her.  
  
Dorothea pulled a book from the pile and read the faded cover: “The Adrestians & Their History by Seteth Nabatea”.  
  
“An exhilarating read, I’m sure,” she muttered as she reached for her scissors. She laid the book down and began to cut the pages from the binding, accidentally knocking over her HapiBucks cup. She quickly picked up the cup, but the damage was done. The book was utterly destroyed. More importantly, she didn’t have any more coffee. A sigh slipped through her lips as she got up to get something to clean up the mess.  
  
Dorothea jumped back when she opened the door to see a girl with fuchsia hair staring back at her.  
  
“I am having apologies! I did not have the intention to startle you,” the girl said, bowing her head. Paper fell from her arms, and she frantically picked it back up. “Are you being the book doctor?”  
  
“Y-yes, I am,” Dorothea stammered as she looked at the beautiful girl in front of her.  
  
“I am having hope that you can be repairing this,” she said, showing Dorothea a clearly well-loved book—loose pages barely held between a ripped cover. “It is holding a lot of importance to me.”  
  
Dorothea took the tattered tome gently from the girl’s hands, staring down at its barely recognizable cover. There was a title there, but she couldn’t have ever hoped to read it—not because of the book’s condition, but because the letters were completely alien to her. As she flipped the book open and began to gently sift through the pages, careful not to let any of them slip out of place, she saw that everything within was written in the same foreign runes.  
  
“This book,” she murmured, looking back up at her unlikely client. “It’s… in another language?”  
  
“H- have forgiveness,” the fuchsia-haired girl replied, giving another slight bow that made Dorothea feel embarrassed somehow. “I should have been explaining. I am called Petra Macneary. My place of birth is being the country of Brigid. I have sorriness for my… difficulty in the speaking of Fodlanese.”  
  
Suddenly Dorothea remembered something she’d overheard Manuela talking about recently—a foreign exchange student from Brigid who’d arrived at GMU this semester. If the girl before her was indeed that student, then she was the granddaughter of an important Brigidian politician—or so Manuela had said. Dorothea suddenly found herself standing a little straighter, trying to look a little more formal. This was like being in the presence of royalty!  
  
There was also the fact that Petra was one of the most attractive girls she’d seen in a very long time.  
  
The Brigidian girl stood almost a full head shorter than Dorothea, with a lean build and perfect poise. Her fuchsia hair was tied back into a neat, elegant braid. Under her eye… was that a tattoo? Dorothea wondered about the story of that mark for a second, then realized she’d been letting her mind wander… while staring almost directly into Petra’s eyes.  
  
She blushed intensely. “Oh. Sorry, sorry. I… kind of zoned out. It’s been a long last few days for me.”  
  
Petra cocked her head, suddenly curious. “Because you have much busyness with the doctoring of books?” she asked, her tone a mixture of excitement and reverence.  
  
Dorothea sighed. “Yes. Partly, anyway. The rest of my time goes to schoolwork. It’s not all awful, I guess. I do get to spend some time singing.”  
  
“Singing?” Petra asked. “You are being a singer at this university?”  
  
Dorothea nodded. “It got me a scholarship.”  
  
Petra bounced on the balls of her feet. “If you would not be minding, might you be demonstrating a song?!”  
  
“Easy there,” said Dorothea with a chuckle. “Now’s not the time for that. This is the library, after all. People here prefer it if we keep our voices down.”  
  
“Ah,” muttered Petra, straightening once again. “I have understanding.”  
  
Dorothea turned back toward her desk, setting down Petra’s old book. She realized all of a sudden that this would be her first time working on a book that didn’t belong to the library. She studied the cover for a moment, taking in the images to compensate for her inability to understand the words. There was a stylized painting of a man standing on a beach, looking longingly off into the distance. Somehow she knew this wasn’t just another history book that a student might check out for a research report.  
  
“The book,” Petra said, stepping in closer to examine it alongside Dorothea. “Are you really having the ability to repair it? I have regret that it is being in such poor condition.”  
  
A bit flustered by how close Petra was standing, Dorothea began to blush again. “I… It shouldn’t be any trouble. I’ve fixed a few books in worse states than this.” She cleared her throat, glancing over at the Brigidian girl. “I know you said it’s special to you. I’ll fix it, I promise.”  
  
Petra smiled widely. “Oh, Book Doctor, I am having so much gratitude!”  
  
Dorothea smiled back. “You can call me Dorothea.”  
  
“Dorothea…” she spoke as if she was tasting the word, “that is being a beautiful name for a beautiful girl.”  
  
The brunette didn’t realize her face could feel this hot. She quickly turned away to hide her slowly escalating blush, “well, I really should get to work.”  
  
“Oh, yes! I have gratitude, Dorothea,” Petra called as she left the room. Dorothea went to place the precious book down on her work bench before she remembered the mess she’d made earlier, now dripping onto the carpet.  
  
“Oh yeah…”  
  


፠፠፠፠፠፠፠

Dorothea sat at her desk, poorly sticking together some old Church of Seiros holy book. She glanced over at Petra's book sitting off to the side. It had been two days since she was asked to fix it, but she hadn't even touched it. That book was more important than any other book she'd worked on; she was afraid to mess it up.

Her thumb ran over the characters on the cover. “ሮታውዪዜፁ ጥ ሮጷፊፄ”.

“I wonder what it says…”

Dorothea was pulled from her pondering when the door to her workspace cracked open.

“Please be pardoning my intrusion,” a familiar voice called out. “May I be coming in?”

“Oh,” the book doctor stammered. “Uh… y-yes, of course!” Dorothea tidied up her desk as much as she could in the few seconds she was given.

“I was having curiosity,” said Petra as she stepped in. “How is the doctoring of books proceeding?”

“Oh, it’s… proceeding…”

“Is my book having the readiness?”

“It’s, um...” Dorothea glanced at the untouched book next to her. “In the queue…”

“‘Q’?” Petra’s face scrunched in confusion. “As in the Fódlish letter?”

Dorothea couldn’t help but laugh. “No, sweetie. By ‘queue,’ I mean the next few books in line for me to work on.”

“Ah! I have understanding,” she responded with a modest bow. “When will my book be reaching the front of your... ‘queue’?”

“Well...” She pondered for a moment. “I’ve got a lot of books that need my attention, so...”

“I have apologies,” the Brigid noble spoke, dropping her head to the floor. “I do not have the intention to rush you. I am only holding lots of impatience. I will be letting you go back to doctoring.”

Dorothea watched Petra turn around, a look of passive despondence on her face. Something about seeing her go like that didn’t sit right with her. Dorothea suddenly felt a bit like an idiot, putting Petra’s beloved book off like that… to think she’d tried to justify it by not being ready! Now Petra was disappointed, and… and…

A different thought suddenly came to her mind.

“Wait, Petra,” Dorothea called out, stopping Petra before she made it to the door. “Don’t go yet!”

Petra paused, turning about. “Huh?”

“You said you wanted to hear me sing,” Dorothea said. “There’s a concert tonight at the Saint Cethleann Recital Hall, and... I’ll be performing in it if you’re still interested.”

Petra’s look of forlorn acceptance suddenly became one of excitement as she looked back to Dorothea. “You have seriousness?” she asked. “A performance of song is tonight? Oh, Dorothea, I will be making sureness to be attending! I have such excitement to be watching you sing!”

Dorothea couldn’t help but smile. “I’ll look forward to seeing you there, Petra.”

Petra turned back toward the exit with a spring in her step. “I must be leaving now, but I will be holding much eagerness in my heart to be seeing your performance.”

“Bye, Petra!” Dorothea called back.

As she watched the door close behind the Brigidian girl, she found herself blushing again. What was it about Petra that captivated her so much? Whatever the reason, she felt more excited for tonight’s performance than she’d ever been for any show in her entire life.

፠፠፠፠፠፠፠

Dorothea went on stage in five minutes, and she was nervous—not at all because of her performance, for she was just as confident as ever in her vocal talents, but because of a certain someone she hoped would be showing up to watch her.

What if I mess up right in front of her? she thought as she applied the last of her makeup in the dressing room. What if... oh, stop it, I won’t mess up. I know these songs like the back of my hand. But with her there…

That brought a whole new concern to light. What if Petra didn’t show after all?

“Almost time, Dorothea!” a stage tech called through the door. Swallowing her doubt, she stood up and moved backstage, ready for tonight’s solo performance.

It was dark on the stage as she moved into position behind the curtains. She knew that when they opened, she would only have a few seconds to scan the audience before the stage lights came on and blocked out her view past the front of the stage. Would that be enough time to find Petra? And that was as if she’d even come in the first place…

It almost caught Dorothea off guard when the curtains began to part, exposing her to the audience. In the tiny moment she knew she had, her eyes scanned left and right, but there was no sign of a familiar fuchsia braid. Oh, no. Had Petra not shown up after all?

Not that I was really expecting her to show, she thought as the lights flashed on. Wasn’t I? It’s no big deal, really... I was just getting my hopes up. Petra just asked about my singing to be nice, since I’m fixing her book. She didn’t really want to come...

Thoughts bounced all around her head in that tiny moment, but she knew she didn’t have the time to contemplate them. Dorothea swallowed. Now it was time to perform. She opened her lips and let the first angelic note come soaring out.

፠፠፠፠፠፠፠

Dorothea stepped gingerly into the lobby of the recital hall. After she’d left the stage, she’d quickly and methodically changed out of the elegant dress she’d performed in, exchanging it for a comfier getup that was still formal enough for the pleasantries ahead of her. She’d already convinced herself not to get her hopes up about seeing Petra. She would thank her instructors and a few other regulars who’d come to the show, then head home to retire for the night. She hoped that wouldn’t take long, because after all that had happened tonight, she was feeling a little crestfallen.

But when she rounded the corner, her heart almost stopped when she saw who was there to greet her.

“Dorothea! You are being here!”

“P-Petra?” she stammered, her heart fluttering as she took in the sight of the beautiful Brigidian girl dressed in formal attire, a red rose held in her hand. “You came!”

“Of course I was coming, Dorothea!” Petra replied, smiling widely. “Your performance... it was filling my heart full!”

Dorothea couldn’t hold back the blush that followed, but if there was any consolation, Petra’s cheeks were turning rosy themselves. Noticing that, Dorothea’s face only flushed further.

“I... was hearing that someone who has given a performance of much excellence deserves a rose,” said the Brigidian girl, holding the red flower higher. “This is being... yours.”

Dorothea tried to keep her arm from shaking as she reached out and took it. “Petra,” she said, almost in disbelief, as she pulled the rose close to her chest. “Thank you so much. You... have no idea how much this means to me.”

Petra gave a little formal bow like she always did—an action that Dorothea was beginning to find more adorable each time. “Your voice,” she said. “It was... having such beauty. Like the voices of the spirits.”

“Petra...” murmured Dorothea. “I was... worried about something. If I may say so, I thought... agh, I hate to say it.”

“To be saying what?”

“That... you were just saying you wanted to come. That you wanted to see me sing. Just to be nice, because I’m fixing your book.”

“Dorothea,” Petra said. “I would never have been acting with so much insincerity! I was knowing since I was first seeing you that your voice must have had much beautifulness... for...” She lowered her head. “You have much beautifulness, Dorothea.”

Dorothea thought that if her blush intensified any more, her head would explode.

“I was... wanting to apologize, though,” Petra continued. “Because... I was almost missing this performance. I still have much newness on this campus, so I was wandering with much franticness trying to find this hall of recitals. I was only arriving right as your singing was beginning. As soon as I was stepping into this building, I was stopping in my place, because a voice that had much gorgeousness was filling my ears. I had sureness that it was you as soon as I was hearing it, but when I was entering the hall of recitals... your beauty was making me its captive.”

“Th- that’s the most flattering thing anyone’s ever said to me,” murmured Dorothea.

“You are not simply having talent in the doctoring of books, Dorothea,” Petra said, smiling. “Your voice is possessing so much beautifulness. I... I am having the desire to...”

Suddenly, Petra stepped forward and threw her arms around Dorothea. The songstress felt her entire body freeze up as the Brigidian beauty embraced her. Her arms gripped her strongly but with gentleness, and Dorothea could feel every bit of admiration Petra felt for her through the gesture—not just because of her vocal talents, let alone whatever book-doctoring skills she possessed, but because of who she was.

For just a moment, Dorothea’s flustered mind thought about whether Petra might just feel the same way.

For a short while more, which felt so much longer to Dorothea, they talked happily amongst each other, with Petra commending Dorothea’s performance over and over. Dorothea didn’t even think about talking to anyone else in the lobby. She wanted this beautiful moment to last forever, but she knew it was already late, and tomorrow she’d be expected back at the library bright and early.

“Petra, I really have to go now,” she said. “It’s late, and I’ll have work in the morning. I... need my rest.”

“I have understanding,” said Petra with another one of those cute little bows. “This was being one of the most exciting nights of my life. Dorothea, my heart feels honor to be knowing someone like you.”

They parted ways curtly, and Dorothea began the walk back home, a noticeable spring in her step.

When she got back to her dorm, before she went to bed, she pulled a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water, placing the precious rose inside. It would sit on her windowsill from then on.

፠፠፠፠፠፠፠

Dorothea strode into her small workspace full of determination. Petra’s book was waiting for her, and she finally had the wherewithal to work on it. If Petra believed she could do it justice, then she could.

She sat at her desk and pulled the book to the center. The art on the cover was faded, but it still captivated the songstress with its beauty. Dorothea took a deep breath and began to cut the pages from the spine. Slowly and carefully, as to not cut deeply into the pages or damage the cover. Once the pages were free from the binding, she made sure they were all in line before she began to glue them back in place. She wrapped bands around the finished product to let everything dry in the correct position. Dorothea leaned back in her chair. Her work was done.

“Dorothea?” came the voice of her usual intruder. “Am I being welcome to come in?”

“Always,” Dorothea cooed. “I just finished your book.” She picked it up and held it out to Petra as the Brigidian girl stepped through the door. “It’s still drying, so leave the bands on for a few hours.”

“I…” Petra stammered as she took the book. “I did not realize this even held possibility…” Tears began to well up in her eyes. “How can I ever be repaying you?”

“Well,” Dorothea said. “I've been looking at this book for days, but I don't have the slightest idea what it says.” A blush crept its way onto her face. “I'd love it if... you could read it to me.”

Petra nodded, trying to keep her tears from trickling down her cheeks. “I would be loving that as well.”

“If you don’t mind me asking,” the songstress spoke, “why is this book so important to you?”

“This book,” she began, “was belonging to my father. In the past, he would be reading me this story with regularity.” Then the smile began to leave her face. “My father is now resting with the spirits.”

“Petra,” Dorothea said, walking over to the crying girl. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up these sad memories.”

But Petra shook her head. “Dorothea, you have no need to give apologies. You gave the item with most importance to me a new life. I am forever owing you a debt.”

Dorothea smiled. “Well, then, I look forward to hearing what the book says.”

“If you have availability,” Petra asked, “is tonight a good night?”

“Tonight is a wonderful night.” Dorothea smiled. “I will be making sureness to be attending, Petra.”

፠፠፠፠፠፠፠

Dorothea sighed rather loudly as she stood in front of the unfamiliar door—door 140 of the Macuil Lofts. She was nervous, but it was now or never. Her knuckles rapped on the wood.

“You may be coming in!” an eager voice called out from behind the door. Smiling to herself, Dorothea let her worries slip away as she clasped the doorknob and pushed the door open.

The dorm room she walked into was small and sparsely decorated, much in contrast to Dorothea’s decked-out room; it spoke to the economical, utilitarian nature of its occupant. It made Dorothea wonder how differently the Brigidians might have thought about living spaces. Petra was sitting atop the plain bed at the room’s far end, smiling as she looked toward Dorothea expectantly.

“I have had much anticipation for your visit,” Petra said, a hint of pride in her voice. “I was paying much attention to the tidiness of this place. I am hoping… it has comfort.”

“It’s lovely, Petra,” replied Dorothea, moving forward to take a seat on the bed next to the Brigidian girl. The precious book that she’d spent hours repairing now sat on Petra’s lap, looking as good as new. “Now,” she said. “How about we begin this literary retreat?”

Petra smiled. “I am liking the sound of that.”

Petra opened the book and read it aloud to Dorothea, trying her hardest to translate the beautifully composed Brigidian prose into Fódlish; though she had visible trouble replicating the author’s sophisticated writing, Dorothea understood everything she needed to all the same. She listened intently as Petra read, observing the beautiful illustrations that accompanied the story… and, from time to time, observing the beauty of the girl who was reading to her.

The story, as Petra explained, was an ancient tale of two lovers: Clíodhna and Ciabhán. Clíodhna was a love spirit, whose singing voice was so enchanting that it could render anyone who heard it spellbound; some even said that her songs could purge listeners of their ailments. Ciabhán, the prince of Brigid, had been struck with disease, so he sought out Clíodhna to hear her song. Not only did the spirit’s voice cure him, but through their interactions, the two fell deeply in love. However, Clíodhna was a spirit, an immortal inhabitant of the ethereal world of Tir Tairngire, and could not stay with her newfound lover unless she gave up her immortality.

Clíodhna’s fellow spirits thought ill of her human lover, urging her to remain in the ethereal world instead; this love, they said, would pass, and if she were to give up her immortality to chase after it, she would one day harbor great regret. But Clíodhna’s love for Ciabhán was stronger than any desire she had to remain an immortal spirit. Clíodhna appeared to Ciabhán, telling him to await her arrival on the seashore; her passage from Tir Tairngire to the material world would be long and arduous, so he would have to hold fast to patience. There, the prince waited for days on end, almost to the point of giving up hope for his lover’s arrival. But at the moment when Ciabhán’s hope was all but extinguished, a great wave began to rush toward the shore, with his beloved Clíodhna riding on its crest.

“And that,” said Petra, turning to the last page, “is being why the highest tide of the year on Brigid has the name of Tonn Clíodhna, which is meaning… Clíodhna’s Wave.” She looked toward Dorothea, her cheeks becoming rosy. “Were you enjoying the story, Dorothea?”

Dorothea nodded. “Of course, Petra. It’s a beautiful tale of love. I can see why you treasure it so greatly.”

“Now that you are knowing the tale,” Petra said, “I am supposing… that now is being the time of rightness to be telling you something.”

“Oh?” said Dorothea, cocking her head.

“When I was hearing your voice last night,” said the Brigidian girl, lowering her head slightly. “The first thing I was being reminded of… was Clíodhna. Your voice was possessing such elegance and gracefulness that I was thinking I was hearing the voice of the love spirit. I had the feeling that… I was stepping into the pages of the book.”

Dorothea couldn’t contain the smile that Petra’s earnest words had elicited. “Oh, Petra,” she murmured. “That’s… the sweetest, most genuine thing that anyone’s ever said to me.”

“And now you have been fixing the book of Clíodhna and Ciabhán for me,” the fuchsia-haired girl continued. “Dorothea… you are truly possessing magic. Like a spirit that has been taking on a material body… just like Clíodhna in the story.”

Suddenly, Dorothea’s smile became a smirk. “So I’m like Clíodhna, then?” she said. Her heart began to beat faster as she formed the next words, knowing just what they would mean: “That would make you Ciabhán.”

Petra’s eyes widened slightly. “Dorothea, I do not have understan-”

She was cut off when Dorothea swooped in and kissed her.

At first, Petra’s eyes went wide with surprise. But she didn’t pull back. Though Dorothea’s kiss had caught her off guard, it was far from unwelcome. It was… something she’d been thinking about for quite some time, even if not entirely in a conscious way. Now that it was happening, it didn’t feel real. It was so sudden, so… magical. Yes, that was how it felt. The songstress’s lips were softer and more pleasant than any sensation she’d ever felt. Petra’s body filled with warmth at Dorothea’s touch, and she realized at once that she wanted more.

Petra closed her eyes, clasped Dorothea’s hand, and reciprocated her kiss. The moment of beautiful union felt like an eternity—a thousand years of bliss, like the eternal, perfect life of a spirit.

But as long as it seemed to last, it was also over before either of them knew it. Slowly, gently, they pulled apart, looking deeply into each other’s eyes.

“Petra,” Dorothea murmured under her breath. “Was it… was I…”

“That… was having magnificence, Dorothea,” the Brigidian beauty replied.

“I… I was…” Dorothea lowered her head. “Ugh. I was just so worried you didn’t feel the same way I did. Ever since you first walked into my workshop, I’ve wanted to kiss you, Petra. Part of me thought it would never, ever happen, and the thought of that… it made me…”

“No, Dorothea,” Petra replied, running a hand across the songstress’s cheek. “Never ever was there being a way that it would not be happening. Because I was desiring it, too. I would have had happiness to be waiting an eternity to be having a kiss from you.”

Dorothea smiled widely. “You really are my Ciabhán, Petra.”

Petra squeezed Dorothea’s hand. “And you are my beautiful Clíodhna.”

For the rest of that night, the newfound lovers exchanged kisses of passion, blissfully content to be in each other’s company. It felt more real than the ending of any storybook, and twice as magical.

**Author's Note:**

> We took a traditional Irish story and edited it to make it not so... cripplingly sad.  
> Brigid text is random Ge'ez symbols  
> Shoutout to whoever gets the esoteric reason we called it hapibucks


End file.
